The best things in life are...

One of the least arduous but most productive of gardening jobs, the magic of deadheading never fails to delight me. It was a revelation when the principle was explained to me: that flowers are the attempt by the plant to reproduce itself. So if you cut the heads off before the flower turns into seeds, the plant will continue to flower. And thanks to regular deadheading, our daisy bush outside the front door was still flowering in December.

Browsing in a charity bookshop

In this age of getting what you want and getting it now, the simple pleasure of browsing is often forgotten. Luckily there is a charity bookshop near where I live in north Devon which provides rich territory for dawdling, leafing and pootling. It's a place of chance discoveries, of random encounters. The terrible thing about the internet and Amazon is that they take the magic and happy chaos out of book shopping. The internet might give you what you want, but it won't give you what you need.

Leaning on gates

The five-bar gate is made to just the right height for a comfortable lean, and round where I live there are plenty of gates to choose from. I could happily lean on a gate all the livelong day, chatting to passers-by about the wind and the rain. I do a lot of gate-leaning while I am supposed to be gardening; instead of hoeing, I lean on the gate, stare at the vegetable beds and ponder.

Listening to Radio 3 in the evening

While pottering around the kitchen, there is nothing better than to play Radio 3 on the wireless. Always thoughtful, Radio 3, thankfully, has has little news to interrupt the serious business of good music, and is peopled by gentle presenters who actually know and love what they are talking about, whether that is Wagner, Satie or Ali Farka Toure.

Walking from Clerkenwell to Soho

A mere 20 minutes, the walk from EC1 to W1 can take many forms. You can stick to the main drag and drink in the bustle of High Holborn, New Oxford Street and Tottenham Court Road. You can dodge through the sidestreets and wander like an 18th-century gentleman round Lincoln's Inn Fields. You can amble though Bloomsbury and past the British Museum. All paths end with the arrival at Old Compton Street and the magical and liberating world of Soho, haunted by the convivial ghosts of Hazlitt, De Quincey, Ernest Dowson, Francis Bacon and Jeffrey Bernard.

Singing John Lennon songs in my head

While not doing anything in particular, it is highly enjoyable to sing John Lennon songs to yourself, both Beatles and solo period. Right now I am enjoying Watching the Wheels and Glass Onion in the iPod of my mind.

Blowing on fires

Just as you are beginning to worry, as you look at the dying embers, that your fire-building skills have failed you, and that you will have to start all over again, you remember the power of the human lung. A few well-aimed puffs of air to the heart of the matter and the twigs will start to crackle and the flames will jump up. Who needs costly firelighters when you have twigs, newspapers and your own free built-in bellows?

Picking parasol mushrooms

It's amazing to me that you can find food for free, and even more amazing when you find a patch of parasol mushrooms. These monsters can grow to over a foot in diameter and are absolutely delicious. You can pop them in your basket and when home, fry them in batter for a fantastic starter. You can also fill a jar with dried slices. The effect is of something that would cost £20 at Carluccio's but you've made it for nothing.

Watching the birds on the bird feeder

Cecil Beaton wrote an approving description of Augustus John's wife Dorelia's house that included the observation: "Close to the windowpanes tits swing on a coconut shell hung from a tree." This is an easy scene to create. I can watch the birds on our feeder for hours, trying to figure out which are the adults and which are the kids, hoping for a woodpecker or even a goldfinch to land, but contenting myself with chaffinches, blue tits and great tits.

Reading Edward Lear poems to my children

OK, maybe this is a cheat because I had to buy A Book Of Bosh in the first place. But it was only 50p from the aforementioned Lynton bookshop. And what great value it's been. I now know The Owl and the Pussycat off by heart and we're getting there with the Pobble Who Had No Toes, The Jumblies and The Dong With A Luminous Nose. A gentle genius, Lear was one of 22 children, a fact that seems to fascinate my children. Lear poems are concerned with loss, yearning and the desire to run away to a magical land, and so are just as satisfying for adults as for kids.

· Tom Hodgkinson edits The Idler. His latest book is How To Be Free (Hamish Hamilton, £14.99)